DX01: SINGULARITY 08841

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A bunch of chickens are just pecking at the dry ground of a pretty empty farmyard, surrounded by a weathered wooden fence with a bunch of rusty old tools leaning against it. Like, the air's pretty still and dry, with a warm, earthy smell as the sun shines down from late morning position, casting long shadows across the yard. Umm, a nearby old-fashioned well just keeps filling itself up with crystal-clear water, despite being in the middle of a dry patch of land. A small patch of bright green grass somehow just stays perfectly circular and neat, as if someone's constantly trimming it.